viernes, 17 de febrero de 2017

Out of nowhere, I decided to grab my wallet,
put on my pants and go to the street, to the nearest convenience store I could
find. Only one was opened, some five blocks away from the hotel. I bought two
packs of cigarettes, one pack of gum and a can of beer, just because I felt to.
I paid and went back slowly to the room were I had done something I had never
done before: I had told someone I would be with him always, for the rest of our
mortal lives, forever.

As I entered the room, I tried not to make a
noise. Of course, I didn’t turn on any lights and only put down my small
plastic bag once I had crossed the room and reached the balcony. I thanked God
that it was such a big room in which he was staying, in one of the best and
most beautiful hotels in the vicinity. He would never travel without getting to
rest in a really good place, where everything was according to his very high
standards. He had a reputation to look after.

Thankfully, I didn’t have anything to look
after. I had no reputation and there was no possibility for me to pay for such
a room, not then or now. The balcony had a very nice view of the ocean and the
sound of the waves crashing gently against the rocks soothed my soul. Or maybe
it was the fact that I smoked two or three cigarettes in a couple of minutes. I
hadn’t done that in so long and now, suddenly, I had comeback to an old and
nasty habit that I had been praised for leaving behind.

As the soft warm wind made my hair move
around, I regretted having bought only one can of beer. Then, I remembered that
room had every kind of alcoholic beverage one would like to drink. The only
problem was money but I guessed that he wouldn’t be very mad if I just drank
one of them, as it could last me for the whole night. The can of beer went back
to the plastic bag, empty after I drank it in a couple of minutes. I was
decided to get myself drunk that night.

I went inside, grabbed a bottle of vodka.
Then, I decided to grab an orange juice bottle too, to make myself some nice
little cocktails. I took both bottles to the balcony and used the empty beer
can as a glass. I mixed both liquids there and started drinking, watching the
apparent never-ending blackness that lived just above the ocean. It seemed so
attractive, so beautiful somehow. I kept drinking, slowly, as I thought of the
best way to get down to the beach in the next couple of hours. After all, I
wasn’t going to be sleeping and he wasn’t going to wake up any time soon.

I had gone to that hotel in hopes to find him
but now, I realized I had done exactly what I shouldn’t have. He had been my
only chance of happiness but now I didn’t want to see his face ever again. I
had spent every single coin I had in my bank account to get there, to tell him
I loved him and that I regretted not telling him that earlier. But hearing the
waves, I realized I had done so because I was afraid of being alone, of being a
failure at every single level a human male could be one.

I had nothing to offer him, nothing at all. My
so-called feelings were just angst and fear disguised in a week fabric of love
and devotion. He would notice soon enough that I was empty, devoid of
everything he thought he needed from someone else. Besides, I had no stability,
no money, I did odd jobs to survive and I loved to look at the darkness and
sleep during the day. I wasn’t what was expecting me to be, not even close. I
had lied and lied and now there was no turning back.

When we met, the first time, I was actually
pretending to be someone’s friend in order to crash a party. I had done so with
a friend that wanted to meet this girl, who ended up being his best friend. A
strange coincidence that made us get acquainted. I remember clearly that, in
those moments, he never seemed interested in me at all. I think he didn’t have
any of the veils in front of him then, the ones that had clouded his judgment
when he had decided to go out with me weeks later.

Some may think I give myself to little credit
but that’s not what’s happening here, not at all. What happens is that I don’t
feel anything anymore, for him or for anyone. I actually doubt I ever felt
anything for anyone ever. I guess I cared for some time and maybe I had an
interest but my feelings were never involved in anything. I just played along
and now that game has brought me to a place I have no idea how to get out of.
What do I do now that I’m into so deep? Is it possible to go back to where we
were before?

I don’t think so, just hours ago I told him I
would be with him forever and he cried and told me that’s what he had always
wanted from me. But somehow, I feel that he knows what I really feel and think.
I remember those first looks he gave in that party in which we met. He knew
then who I was and that I couldn’t be trusted with something so important as
his heart. Why does he think that has changed now, especially when we already
tried and failed? Maybe he has a thing for failing, or maybe he’s one of those
people that think they can fix other people.

If that’s the reason, I think he means well
but it would be an uphill battle. I have never changed anything about me. I
have always failed or passed by without getting noticed. He cannot change that,
not even if he wanted to do it with all of his energy and money. Not even power
can change the fact that I am me, whoever that person may be. Yes, it’s sad for
me to admit that there’s no chance for me anymore but I do believe it’s best if
I don’t get my hopes without any good reason.

I decided then to go down to the beach and
walk on sand, which I guess feels nice on your body, unless you enter the water
too. The people working in the hotel don’t see me walking down with my last can
of cocktail, passing the swimming pools and walking into a small but nice
little beach. I walk around, trying not to think anymore but that’s impossible.
My brain cannot stop telling me things, almost yelling them at me as if I
didn’t now them. It’s decided: I’m leaving him and never coming back.

I have no idea how to get back home but I
guess I can always steal some money from him and at least buy a bus ticket back
to my city, back to my little and ugly apartment which I pay cleaning floors
and serving people in awful little restaurants. That’s what a bachelor’s degree
would do for you. Or maybe I could grab some more money and just leave for
another city, a new place in which I can begin again. But the dream dies soon,
because I’m incapable of really dreaming.

I sit down just out of reach from the water.
There’s no more alcohol in my can, which I throw to the ocean. I looked at the
waves, angry with them because they refuse to take me away. I’m angry because
this is not the way thing were suppose to go down like. This is not the life I
should have had. Or I at least I don’t think anyone should have this life in
any way shape or form. It is too cruel and empty, with no rewards and nothing
to look forward to. Empty as the blackness of the sky.

I noticed that I’m walking towards the water,
slowly. It feels kind of warm, which is very nice. When it reaches my waist, I
am tempted to look back to the hotel but I decided not to. There’s not for me
there and there’s no way I’m going back,

I keep on walking until the waves push me
around, hitting me on the face several times, making me tumble and fall to my
knees. Under the surface, my body attempts to swim upwards but my mind decides
to make us swallow a good gulp of water. Better to end it here.

martes, 31 de mayo de 2016

Mister James arrived in the late flight.
Mrs. Nakamura was there to receive him as soon as he stepped out of the baggage
claim area. She was very nice, greeting him with a sign with his name on it in
both Japanese and English. She asked him about his journey as they walked
towards the door. Not even a minute later, as they were talking about how
difficult it could be to sleep on a plane, a small black car, which seemed
brand new, appeared out of nowhere and parked in front of the two of them.

Minute
later, the car was on a highway, speeding next to many other cars and
motorcycles. Mrs. Nakamura was talking on the phone and he didn’t know whom
with. He was too fascinated with the view from his window to care: the city
rose in every way, buildings all over. It was impossible to see the moon in the
sky. It was late but there were lots of cars in the road. As they approached
the core of the city, the denser it became.

When Nakamura hung up, she smiled again and
explained where they were going and the name of his hotel. It was a very
prestigious five star hotel with every single commodity a person could ask for.
He personally thought it was a bit too much for a four days stay but he didn’t
say a word. He knew Japanese people loved to be hospitable and it would be rude
to say anything against it. So he just smiled and said that the city was very
impressive. It was extremely big in every way.

Soon, they crossed the most popular
neighborhoods, where people gathered to have a drink after work and the young
ones paraded around to have fun, whether it was on the numerous arcades or on
the specialized stores that sold comic books and other anime and manga related
items. There were so much people, more than Mr. James had ever seen. He had
being born in a very small city and had only left after high school so he was
still impressed by large cities.

They arrived in the hotel just a few minutes
afterwards. The building was beautiful and someone, a small man, came out of
nowhere and took James’s suitcase. He almost went running after him but it was
obvious he was an employee and he was only looking to be efficient. The driver
left and Nakamura joined him in the reception for the check-in procedure.

The lobby of the hotel was very big, filled
with flowers. There was no one around except the staff who was also very nice
and smiled every single moment. It was late and they were probably tired so it
was a very nice thing of them to keep smiling. The short man took the suitcase
to the elevator and took them directly to the assigned room. It was locate on
floor number 44. The view was outstanding. He almost didn’t hear when Mrs.
Nakamura told him she would be there by seven in order to take him to the
conference.

Once alone, he checked his suite: it was
almost like a proper apartment with a living room, a small kitchen space and a
large bedroom with a very comfortable bed. The bathroom, which had a circular
Jacuzzi type of bathtub, had a window overlooking the city. He felt tempted to
have a bath but he decided it was better to rest as he had an early day the
next day. He took of his clothes and hopped into the bed. There, he stared at
the window for a while and realized the bed was big enough for two. So he put a
hand on the space next to him and fell asleep.

The conference that was being held in the city
lasted all the four days he was going to be there and would take most of his
time. When Nakamura came in to take him there, he was sad he couldn’t walk
around the city first. But she noticed something in his face because she told
him that they were going to have lunch in a traditional restaurant and dinner
in an interactive place where many foreigners love to go. So he decided to look
forward to both those activities.

The conferences were about security in the
XXIst century and how could people feel safe in every single one of the spaces
they frequented the most such as public transportations, shopping areas,
recreation venues and so on. He had given the same conference once and again
and again for the last five years. James was considered to be one of the
experts in the subject, always invited by television networks to talk about
terrorism and how it worked in urban areas and so on.

Sometimes, he grew very bored of hearing his
own voice. And he knew that he also bored many people, no matter how interested
they were in what he was saying. It was one of those traits that are impossible
to erase from the personality. But he was looking forward to lunch so he
decided to be as gracious and nice as he could.

He was awarded by the most delicious meal he
had ever had, at least in recent times. There was some sushi but also ramen and
noodles of all kinds and various cuts of fish and seafood. There were also
sweets made of what he thought were strange ingredients. But he tried every
single thing and was commanded by the chef for being such a good sport with
everything. They even took a picture of the whole table, James smiling.

At night, Mrs. Nakamura took him to the
strangest place he had never been in: it was called a café but it was more a
hybrid between a bar and a restaurant. They had a live show featuring some
people in costumes and the food was all filled with sugar:milkshakes, ice creams, sweet cocktails, cheesecakes
and all kinds of desserts to enjoy as you watched the show.

When he arrived at the hotel and Mrs. Nakamura
left, he had a big smile on his face. The place they had been last was filled
with typical tourists and also younger people but he had a lot of fun looking
at the costumes and the very creative show they had put up. He was a bit drunk
because of some funny colored drinks he had but the first thing he did when he
arrived at his bedroom was not to fall asleep but to grab his tablet and start
looking for everything he wanted to see all around the city.

He had decided he wasn’t going to waste any
time, no matter how short or if it had to be done at night. He wanted to see
every single landmark that was worth a watch and also visit more places like
that café, places that felt unique and special. He had gotten such a good vibe
out of that place and maybe it was because he had never been in such a fun
place, filled with color and with people having fun.

As he finally got into bed, he realized his
job had its perks. It was depressing to talk about security every day but he
got to visit such great places and have a fun time. It was always better that
been at home where he had no one to come home to, where he had long nights in
which the old insecurities came back to hunt him. No, when he travelled he was
always happy and had the most fun he had ever had in his life. He wished it
could always be like that.

The second day they went to the shopping areas
and James decided to splurge a little. He wasn’t a fan or anything of the sort
of manga but he decided to get advice from the owner of the largest store of
manga they saw and ask him which ones he recommended to begin with. He bought
four books, all in English so he could understand. The owner, as all the other
people, was always very nice.

He also bought some clothes, making Mrs.
Nakamura help him with the sizes and telling him if he looked good in them or
not. At first, she had been a little apprehensive that he was not as she had
expected him to be. But after some conversations, she realized he was lonely
person, which wasn’t all that uncommon in her city, in her country. So she
decided to help him as well as she could and follow him to all his adventures.

The night before he had to leave, they went to
a very quiet sushi bar which she had recommended as she had dinner there with
friends quite often. They discussed his schedule for the last day and when she
mentioned his flight, James smile disappeared. He obviously didn’t want to
leave yet. She promised to take him to a special place the next day, before the
flight and he smiled to that.

James last night was one of almost no sleep,
mostly thinking and thinking. And when he was done doing that, the sun was
about to rise. By the time he arrived to the conference hall for one last
lecture, he had taken the decision to change his life and to make that
presentation the last he would ever make.

sábado, 21 de mayo de 2016

Arthur just couldn’t keep himself from doing
a party. He always had to have one. It didn’t matter if it was only him and a
few people or with a large crowd. Somehow, he needed that at least twice a week
and if holidays happened to be occurring, the number grew considerably. Once,
he even drank every single night of one week. The amazing part of it all was
that the following week he looked good as new, as if nothing had happened.

Having him as a roommate was particularly
difficult. The parties were one big part of it but also his lack of order and
cleanliness. Every time he cooked something, the kitchen seemed to have
exploded: every pan and pot was in the wrong cabinet, there was rice all over
the floor and even small puddles of water or other liquids on the floor. He
would also get ketchup on the walls, and would never, even by an act of
kindness, get the trash out to the street.

Normally, a person like that would have been
thrown out of an apartment after a couple of mishaps, but there was an important
detail to be considered: the two bedroom apartment, which had a large living
room, a balcony, a very big bathroom and comfortable rooms, was owned by
Arthur’s father, who also happened to be one of the richest men in his country.
The man was very powerful and it wasn’t a surprise he had properties a little
bit everywhere.

Anyhow, that’s how I met Arthur. I remember
having arrived to the city, from my country and after a twelve-hour flight. I
had browsed online for days until I had finally found a proper place to stay
in. The apartment looked incredible and the price was just insane. At first, I
thought there had been a mistake but, after I decided to write, they confirmed
that the price of the room I wanted was correct. Immediately, I booked the
room, excited to have found such a bargain.

When I arrived, a month later, the first
person I met was not Arthur but his father. I had no idea of who he was back
then and even now I don’t really now the extent of his power and wealth. After
all, Arthur and I are not from the same country and his father is not very well
known to me. However, he was very kind, greeting me as I arrived. He made a
brief tour of the apartment and then asked to have a chat after signing all the
papers.

He wanted me to understand something: his son
was going to leave there too and that’s why the rent of my room was so cheap. I
didn’t understand at first but he said I would I due time. He only asked
patience of me and swore I would be glad I had decided to live there. At first,
I thought he was just exaggerating. I was very wrong!

Arthur had grown to be a very tall guy. His
feet were big and his hands too. His head was a bit smaller compared to the
rest of his body and that made him look weird at first. Of course, the first
few days were just perfect. The apartment was not only huge and very well
located; it was also very modern and had everything one would need, even a maid
that would come in every Thursday to clean up. She was a very chatty woman and
it was nice to talk to her when she came.

The first party occurred just after the first
month had gone bye. It was a big shock to see at least twenty people, all over
the living room, drinking beers and watching some show on the TV screen. Hours
later, they would turn the music up and start dancing and jumping and being all
crazy. The rooms were separated from the living room by a corridor, which could
be closed by a door. And if you also closed the door of your room, the noise
wasn’t too bad.

But the noise factor was only a part of it
all. It was much more annoying to be walking to the kitchen the next day and
having to avoid stepping on someone that was sleeping on the floor or on food
or on the various puddles of beer. Of course, when they all went home, they
would never clean anything up. Everything would remain as it was, as if a bomb
had gone of in the middle of the living room and also the bathroom. It was just
too disgusting.

I called his father the first time. I was
furious, telling him about all the vomit there was on the bathroom floor and
about the unconscious bodies on the living room and the smells and the amount
of dirty dishes on the kitchen sink. But he just calmed me down by saying he
would send Minerva, the maid, to clean up and that everything would be fine.
Then, I decided not to day a word because I thought it was a once in a year
thing, once every six months at least.

Minerva came and cleaned everything in less
than an hour. It was as if she was magical. And she didn’t say anything about
all the disgusting things around. I kept complaining to her but she only nodded
and said “Yeah”, which should have been a red flag but I just didn’t see it.
When I wanted to comment on the mess with Arthur, he argued he was too busy and
would just leave the apartment or get locked in his room.

I had never been the type to ask fro
friendships or to want to have a huge bond with the people I lived with. I just
don’t think it’s necessary. But I was willing to try if it meant getting sure
that bomb didn’t go off again. However, Arthur didn’t let me. We spoke very few
words and that was during my whole stay there, which lasted a full year.

Arthur seemed like a very private person but
then he would bring two buddies to drink beer and watch a game in the living
room. And then they would start smoking pot and then some girls would arrive
and then more people and suddenly he would have a party on his hands that he
even wasn’t around to handle. It was wasn’t uncommon to arrive late at the
apartment and finding a party where the person that lived there appeared to be
missing. People he invited, of course, didn’t care. But it was stressful not to
find him when the mess was going out of control.

Neighbors didn’t complain for two reasons: the
first one was the apartment was actually sound proof. So it didn’t really
matter how loud the parties could get, the people on the same floor or on the
one below (as it was a penthouse) could only hear a very soft hum. That was it.
The other reason was that they know who was the owner of the apartment and it
was a general consensus that they didn’t want problem which someone like that.

So complaining was not a popular thing. And
those parties and that mess happened every single week of the year except for
two glorious one in March, when Arthur was forced by his dad to visit his
family back home. It was the only time Arthur shared a bit of his life, only to
complain about it. When he left, the calm in the apartment was almost
overwhelming but it was welcomed.

I could sleep a lot better and could use the
TV without him been there. I could keep everything the way I liked it and even
Minerva told me that I should leave her more to clean. I enjoy those two weeks thoroughly
but was always afraid a party would appear out of nowhere because that’s how it
worked. I went out a couple of days and arrived late and it was so strange to
get there and seeing no drunk people on the floor and having a clean bathroom
to pee in before going to bed.

Of course, that didn’t last long. Arthur came
back and the following months were just as horrible as the rest. I endured
because my parents were really glad I didn’t have to spend so much money on a
place. I also didn’t want to break the contract, which stated that if I left
before the last specified date, I would not get my deposit, which I needed. So
I had to endure by going out of that place every day of that summer.

I went to the beach almost every day. I even
made a couple of friends there. But then I would have to go back to the mess. I
reminded myself that it was only for a few more months and then it would all be
done. I would go back home and I wouldn’t have to care about cleaning floors or
doing dishes that hadn’t been used by me.

The last day, we had a conversation. It was very
surreal. He said he was very sorry about how everything had been between us and
regarding the apartment. It was obvious his father or someone had talked to
him. Or maybe it was him, who had had a revelation. But, honestly, I didn’t
care. My luggage was ready at the door and I ordered a taxi on my phone as he
spoke. We just shook hands and I forgot all about him, until today.

sábado, 16 de abril de 2016

When Alan woke up, he felt a hand lodged
right between his thighs, centimeters away from his genitals. He froze as soon
as he open his eyes and realized he didn’t really knew what had happened the
night before. Not minding the hand or the soft breathing next to him, he tried
to remember where he was exactly and what had he done to get there.

He remembered going to his friend Amelia’s
house as she had organized a party for her boyfriend, who had recently came
back to the country after working with an NGO for several months in Africa.
Alan had always thought Julio, Amelia’s boyfriend, was very handsome and kind
and he always told her that if he had been gay, he would have been the one to
get him. Amelia always responded to this by laughing and saying, “Right, you
wish”. She had cooked some things, bought other things and had bought lots to
drink for the many people that were coming.

At first, it had been a nice little gathering
of people and, as it was a surprise party, it had been really nice when Julio
had come in and he was truly surprised to see so many people there. Alan ate a
lot and then began to drink, just like the rest of the people. Music slowly
changed throughout the night and after midnight they were already dancing all
over the place. Everyone was having fun. And that’s all Alan could remember
clearly. Memories become blurry after that.

He turned around his head to the left and
realized, although the hand between his thighs was a good indicator, that he
was naked. His clothes were all over the floor, his underwear on top of a shoe
that wasn’t his. He turned around his head to the right and expected not to see
whoever it was awake but he wasn’t. He had his eyes closed and he was a very
cute guy. Cuter than most men he had ever had sex with. But no matter how hard
he tried; he couldn’t remember who he was.

After dancing had begun, he thought he
remembered drinking a lot more. He probably mixed liquors and that’s why his
head didn’t feel so good. And his stomach wasn’t too great either. He closed
his eyes for a while and tried to think about what he should do. He ended up
remembering a conversation with Julio about some political issue in Africa and
with Amelia about how hot someone was. He didn’t really remember who he was
talking about but he remembered saying something about an ass.

Carefully, he lifted the bed sheet to see it
if the guy’s ass made him remember anything else but it didn’t. It was nice
though and he couldn’t help but appreciating that the guy slept on his chest
and with his face towards him. He almost laughed at this stupid thought but he
contained himself and realized it was probably time to go.

The hand was the most difficult part.The best way to do it was to make him move
the hand instead of Alan taking it and moving it himself. So he just moved his
legs and feet a bit and that made the guy turn his head around and remove his
hand from where it was, instead putting it right under his body. Alan waited
for further movement but it didn’t happen, so as silently as he could, he got
out of the bed.

He suddenly had a string urge to sneeze and
grab his nose just in the right way not to make a big noise. He had a bit of a
dust allergy and he realized the floor was not precisely spotless. There were
little balls of dust here and there and he decided to get his clothes fast,
before he needed to sneeze again. He grabbed his underwear first, then one sock
that was on the bed, then his pants on top of the other guy’s shirt. His shirt
was on a chair, as well as his jacket and, finally, his other sock on the
nightstand near the possible owner of the room.

Alan realized two things right there: that he
might not be in that guy’s place and that he had no idea where his shoes were.
He looked beneath the bed and under every piece of clothing still on the floor
but he couldn’t find anything. So if they weren’t there, they had to be
outside. Hoping not to have to wake up the guy, he grabbed the door handle and
pushed as slowly as he could. The door didn’t make a noise and he closed it
with care.

Effectively, his shoes were on the corridor
outside. He got dressed right there and in a few seconds he was clothed and
walking to the main door. The apartment was nice, although a bit dusty too in
the social areas. There was an opened bottle of wine on the coffee table and
two glasses. Those were probably theirs and that really explained why Alan had
such a need to eat something or vomit. He had never been a good wine drinker
and realized he must have been really drunk to accept wine.

He put on his shoes right on the door, checked
his jacket for his wallet and cellphone and when he felt them, he opened the
door, got out and closed without minding the slamming sound. He was out anyway,
so he didn’t really care anymore. He walked towards an elevator and press the
down button and then had a memory, a confusing one, of having kissed someone in
an elevator recently. Not a surprise.

When the elevator opened, a woman not much
older than Alan came out and greeted him. He walked into the elevator and, just
as the doors were closing, he saw she was standing in front of the apartment he
had just left and was looking for her keys. He opened his mouth in surprise and
wondered who she might have been.

Moments later, on the street, he quickly knew
where he was and where he had to walk to catch a bus towards his house. It was
very early and it was, if Alan remembered correctly, a Saturday. So that
explained why the woman was visiting he guy he had been with. Maybe it was his
sister. Or maybe it was a friend that had keys, but that didn’t really make any
sense. Or she could have been his roommate. After all, he remembered seeing a
couple of closed doors. If only he could remember anything about his likely
conversation with him.

When he got to the bus stop, he tried to
straighten his hair and look a bit less “hangover” in the face. But that was
probably impossible so he just sat in the small metal bench and waited for his
bus. He checked the number on his cellphone and then realized he maybe used the
phone the night before. So he checked for pictures and, he certainly had many
of those but not the kind he was hoping for.

He almost dropped the phone and had to lower
the brightness of the screen so no one else could see, even if he was alone at
the bus stop. There were five pictures and in all of them he was having what
looked like great sex with the guy he had woken up next to. He certainly didn’t
remember that but then something woke up some of his neurons: in one of
pictures, he could see the guy had a tattoo of a Celtic symbol on his arm. He
remembered having talked about it but not with whom. Probably that guy…

He knew he said he knew what the symbol meant
and he did: it was about eternity and everlasting energy or something like
that. Maybe that had been his so-called “pick up line”. Alan didn’t really use
those but maybe it had worked that way for him. He also had a couple of
pictures in the party but that he remembered very well because they had been
taken early in the night.

The bus arrived; he passed his card and then
sat down in the back row. He looked at people and cars and dogs as the bus took
him home and when he finally got there he just took off his clothes again and
got in bed. But he couldn’t really fall asleep. He was still thinking of the
guy and how guilty he felt not knowing who he was, at least a name or something
about their conversation or what the sex was like.

He really was an attractive guy so Alan
wondered how he made it happen. Maybe the guy was desperate or maybe Alan had some
charm he didn’t even know was there. Maybe he should have stayed in that bed,
with that hand between his thighs in order to know more about that guy and
possibly about himself. What harm could it have done?